Deer in the Headlights
by McEs
Summary: The Weasley men aren't as smooth as they like to think they are. Songfic inspired by Owl City.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, nor do I own the song "Deer in the Headlights" by Owl City.**

* * *

><p>Percy was wandering through the streets of Diagon Alley. As much as his brothers teased him, he could relax, thank you very much, and he was thoroughly enjoying his little stroll.<p>

He straightened his glasses and brushed any crinkles from his robe after working his way through the worst of the crowd. Percy always wanted to look presentable.

What he didn't expect was to be bowled over by a little witch running past him, holding her hat to her head and her purse tightly to her body.

Looking back on it years later, he would appreciate being on the ground, for had he not been, he would have missed the witch dropping her wallet, after using her purse to shove aside a slew of slow-moving pedestrians.

"Wait!" he called. "Hey, um…blast, what's her name?" He hurriedly looked through the wallet for some sort identification, but in his haste, nearly managed to dump the contents to the ground. "MISS! WAIT!" His yell echoed down the street.

Well, he was a Weasley, after all.

The woman turned, spotted him, and gave a little shriek before maneuvering even faster through the crowd.

Goodness, what was she running from? Percy had never been one to look threatening. No, Bill claimed that title for the family, what with his ridiculously long hair and that boorish earring. Either way, that woman was running as if it was the devil himself chasing her.

Percy was not the devil, and he was going to prove it by catching that damnable woman, returning her wallet, and doing his good deed for the day!

So Percy did the one thing he would normally not get caught dead doing in public. He hoisted his robes up over his knees, threw the extra material over one shoulder, and ran. He kept his head low, his eyes on his target, and his hands over his… well, one could never predict what one hits when running through a crowd, and the chance of getting hit in…sensitive areas…was just as risky as getting hit anywhere else. Percy didn't want to chance it.

His precautions were not senseless. He got elbowed in the gut, shoved in the back, poked in the neck, and, most unfortunately, vomited on by an infant supported over its mother's back.

Finally, _finally_, he was within touching distance of this peculiar woman. Just as he was about to lunge out and grab her arm, she reached over her shoulder, her wand pointed at his head.

"_Stupefy_!"

Percy was out cold before he even hit the pavement.

He came to on a makeshift cot in the office of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, with a grinning George looking down at him.

"Alright, mate? Your head bounced off the ground like a Bludger!"

"Bludgers don't bounce."

"Exactly. You hit the dirt hard and stayed there."

"What happened to…?" Percy sat up and turned, seeing the witch sitting uncomfortably in the chair next to the desk. "Oh. Hello."

George walked behind the desk and sat down. "I saw that spectacle you created just outside my shop, Percy. Would you like to explain to me why this poor woman felt the need to Stun you in front of a very, _very_ large crowd?" He folded his hands and tried to look disapproving.

Percy reached into his pocket, hoping the only proof that he wasn't a nutter hadn't gotten lost in the hoopla. Relieved, he pulled out the wallet and handed it to her. "You dropped this."

Her eyes got big and she blushed horribly. "Oh…oh my. I am so very sorry. I thought you were going to arrest me."

Percy's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"Well, I saw you chasing me, and I thought you had come from the Apothecary."

Fred leaned in. "What happed at the Apothecary?"

If possible, the woman colored even more. "I…uh…accidentally tipped over a few barrels of dragon eyes. I'm afraid I don't have the money to pay for it, so I ran. I saw you-" she gestured to Percy, "- chasing me, and you're wearing Ministry robes…"

"So you _Stunned_ me?" Percy couldn't believe it.

"I told you, I thought you were going to arrest me."

Fred practically choked he was laughing so hard. "Seems like you've mostly got it sorted out, mate. I'll leave you to it- I've got a shop to maintain." With that, he walked out of the room.

"I'm so sorry. It was just a misunderstanding. Thank you for returning my wallet." The woman stood, prepared to leave as well.

Percy found he didn't want her to. She was fascinating. "Wait! At least tell me your name?"

She smiled. "Audrey."

_Met a girl in the parking lot  
><em>_And all I did was say hello.  
><em>_Her pepper spray made it rather hard  
><em>_For me to walk her home.  
><em>_But I guess that's the way it goes._

_Tell me again was it love at first sight  
><em>_When I walked by and you caught my eye?  
><em>_Didn't you know love could shine this bright?  
><em>_Well, smile because you're a deer in the headlights._

* * *

><p>Bill felt bittersweet about working in London. He was proud to be playing a part in the Order, but he already missed the freedom living abroad gave him. He sighed and prepared himself for 9-5 hours for a long while.<p>

He pushed through the door and into his new office. No windows. He could already tell he was going to suffocate in here.

He sat down at his desk. Dear Merlin, he had a _desk_. He looked to his left, the 'In' box already growing, then to his right, where a quill and inkwell sat.

He jumped to his feet, running out of his prison, ehm, office, trying to find any room – _any _– that was big enough to let him breath.

He rushed down the maze of corridors, finally finding the conference room, and throwing the door open.

Fifty heads turned toward him, including the presenter who frowned. "Who are you?"

A shimmering in the front of the room caught his attention. Why did that blonde hair look familiar?

He stuttered. Jesus! What was wrong with him? Bill Weasley doesn't _stutter_. "I – um. That is..."

Fleur Delacour stood and grabbed his arm. "I am sor-ee, sir, but Monsieur Weasley waz zuppozed to meet weeth me an hour ago. 'E must 'ave found out I waz in 'ere. Forgeeve uz." She pulled him out from the room.

He didn't know what to say. "Huh?"

He mentally looked to the sky. Bill Weasley was suave. Where _was_ that man today?

"You are welcome. Maybee I will see you again, yez?" She turned to walk away.

"Wait!" he called. She turned back. "Um."

She raised her eyebrows. "Yez, I would love to have lunch weeth you." She smiled, and started walking away again.

To this day, Bill blamed the moment on her Veela blood.

_Met a girl with a graceful charm  
><em>_But when beauty met the beast, he froze._

* * *

><p>Charlie smiled. If only his mum could see him now.<p>

She would be so disappointed.

He was sitting in his favorite bar, eyeing up the hen party that had just stumbled in.

Charlie had been asked what his perfect girl was like. Blonde, athletic, opinionated? Charlie never had an answer; he loved any and all women. He wasn't fussy.

But there was one little detail that was a clincher for him.

Drunk.

It made him seem like an arsehole, but Charlie loved women, and then he loved for them to get out of his flat. If they were drunk, they didn't stay long. And sometimes they even made breakfast to ward off a hangover. If they even stayed over. Most did not.

So he was eyeing up the hen party. Many a friend had scoffed when he said he was moving to Romania. "What type of woman will you meet there?" they had asked. "Ice princesses with unibrows, that's what."

Charlie disagreed. There were beautiful women in every country, and he was very good at finding them. So what if they spoke with a thick accent? Some things were the same in every language, and sex was one of them.

He was narrowing down the contenders for the night. Obviously the future bride was out. He may be a dick, but he was not a cheating dick. But a few of the women laughing around her were definitely in.

He stood up and walked over to the table. "Evening, ladies. What's the happy occasion?"

The girls giggled and said something in Romanian, too quick for him to understand. Ah well, who needed conversation?

"Buy you girls a drink?" He motioned to the bartender, who, by now, knew his signals. He appeared with shots in hand, passing them around.

The girls cheered, raised their glasses, and slammed the shot. If there was one thing about Romanian women he loved, it was their ability to handle their drink.

He made his final decision and went in for the kill.

Putting his arm around the chosen victim – um… well hell, he wished he could come up with another term… – and started to chat her up in the limited Romanian that he knew. She seemed pretty willing, and Charlie thought he had struck gold, until the party stood up and started making its way toward the door, the girl included. He grabbed her hand. "Hold on there, love, I was hoping you could stay and talk to me some more."

She smiled.

He smiled back.

She punched him in the mouth and stalked out.

The bartender was laughing hysterically. "Didn't you even know what she was saying to you the entire time you were talking?"

Charlie rubbed his mouth and shook his head.

"She kept repeating it to you. 'I am a lesbian. I am a lesbian. I am a lesbian.'"

"_That's _what she was saying?" Charlie stood up and went back to the bar to sullenly finish his drink, asking the bartender for some ice for his jaw. "Must've been why she had such a mean right hook."

The bartender smacked him over the head.

_Got the sense I was not her type  
><em>_By the black eye and bloody nose.  
><em>_But I guess that's the way it goes._

_Tell me again was it love at first sight  
><em>_When I walked by and you caught my eye?  
><em>_Didn't you know love could shine this bright?  
><em>_Well, smile because you're a deer in the headlights._

* * *

><p>Arthur sighed. Molly Prewett would be the death of him. That woman gave such horrible mixed signals! One minute they'd be arguing in the Gryffindor common room and the next she'd be flirting with him in class. He wasn't <em>that<em> inexperienced. He knew flirting when he saw it and Molly Prewett was _definitely_ flirting. And the minute he had worked up the courage to ask her out, they would be arguing again and all his confidence would be down the drain.

It was so _frustrating_!

"Arthur! Are you even _listening_ to me?"

"No, Molly. Remind me, what are we arguing about this time? Because I've lost track, considering the number of times we've argued today!"

"Arthur Weasley you are so _frustrating_!" She stomped her foot, looking like she was about to explode.

"Do you even _listen to yourself_? Aarrgh!" With that enlightened closing comment, Arthur stalked out of the common room, finding the abandoned classroom he had found and used to gain some peace and quiet

He sat down in one of the desks, and rubbed the letters he had carved long ago: AW + MP. Unfortunately, after an argument, he had crossed it out. Then, after a particularly… energizing class with her, had carved them again. The cycle had gone on for so many times that the desktop was covered with them, only one carving yet to be crossed out.

He sighed. He was sick of this. He wanted to be with her, he did. He just didn't know what she wanted.

She appeared so quickly it seemed his thoughts alone had made it happen. He stood and sat on the desk with the incriminating markings. "What do you need Molly? Wanna argue some more?" he said tiredly.

"No. I wanted to apologize."

He blinked behind his glasses. "What?"

"You asked me to specify what we were arguing about, and I couldn't even remember. So I wanted to come apologize. I knew you'd be in here."

"How did you know that?"

"I come in here, too, once in awhile. For the quiet."

Arthur's eyes went wide, trying his hardest not to look down at the desk he was sitting on. She moved to sit next to him on it, rubbing the lone marking not crossed out.

"Yeah, I've seen this."

Arthur was blushing horribly, cursing his genes and red hair.

"It gave me hope, you know? I _know_ I'm argumentative. Sometimes I just can't stop it. So I'd come here and see that you'd crossed one out, but I'd look back at all the other ones and think, 'Maybe tomorrow he'll put another one in.'"

This was all much too confusing. "Molly, I never would have crossed the first one out if you hadn't started such horrible rows with me."

"Oh please, Arthur, you've started just as many as I have." She crossed her arms and frowned, before slouching, smiling sadly. "See? I just can't help myself. I have a temper. I'm so used to having to defend myself all the time to my brothers that I don't realize when someone isn't trying to start something."

He had to hold in a laugh. "Molly, I _never_ want to row with you! You're right scary!"

She slapped his arm and jumped down from the desk, turning to face him fully. "I'm really sorry. Forgive me?"

Arthur frowned. "You've got to stop that."

She looked shocked. "What?"

"One minute you're rowing with me and the next you're being sweet and adorable. Would you please make up your mind, Molly? I can't take it anymore."

She smiled. "You think I'm sweet and adorable?"

He gestured to the desk. "What did you think all these meant?"

"…that I'm insufferable?"

He kissed her.

_It's suffocating to say, but the female mystique takes my breath away.  
><em>_So give me a smile, or give me a sneer  
><em>_Cause I'm trying to guess here._

* * *

><p>"Angeliiiina, I'm boooored." George whined after throwing himself dramatically onto her sofa.<p>

"I don't give a rat's arse. I've got paperwork to finish, and if you whine once more, I am going to throw you out."

"Play a game with me."

"What did I just say?"

"Play one game, and I'll leave you alone."

"I swear, you are worse than Victoire."

"One game."

"One?"

"Just one." A grin, familiar by a touch of evil giddiness in it, flashed across his face. "Let's make this interesting."

Angelina immediately crossed her arms. "No."

"Angelina, stop being such a chicken."

"George Weasley, how long have I known you? I know better than to take up any bets with you. For all know, this game is fixed, whatever it is."

George wore a face of innocence. "I wouldn't do that."

"No? The past ten years are telling me otherwise."

"Angelina!"

"Alright, fine. How are we going to make this 'interesting'?"

"If I win, you're going to go out on a date with me."

Angelina raised her eyebrows. "Am I?"

"That's the bet."

"And what if I win?"

"You can break my heart and say no." George stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

Angelina barely covered a smile. "So what are we playing?"

George looked around her flat before his eyes landed on her chess set. "Classic game of wizard's chess o'course."

20 moves later and George was staring at the board frowning.

"I won. That's that." Angelina stood to go to back to work.

"How is that _possible_? I had it all worked out!"

"Well obviously you didn't. Because I won."

George stood, kicked the board, and stormed out of her apartment.

"Stop being a sore loser!" she yelled to his back.

She sighed and looked down at her paperwork.

Then she stood, raced to her door, and yanked it open.

"Alright, I'll go out with you, you big baby!"

_Tell me again was it love at first sight  
><em>_When I walked by and you caught my eye?  
><em>_Didn't you know love could shine this bright?  
><em>_I'm sorry I ever tried (deer in the headlights)_

_Tell me again was it love at first sight  
><em>_When I walked by and you caught my eye?  
><em>_Didn't you know love could shine this bright?  
><em>_If life was a game, you would never play nice._

* * *

><p>Ron wasn't sure what to do.<p>

Hermione had kissed him.

On the_ mouth_.

With _tongue_!

It was easily the most brilliant moment of his entire life, and he had absolutely no idea what to do next.

It probably meant nothing. Just the heat of the moment. She probably had already forgotten. Or regretted it.

Right?

Who was he supposed to talk to about this? Hermione would be able to sort through it. But God, he couldn't talk to _her_! How mortifying!

Harry would be just as bad. Ron thought that practically everyone within a 5 kilometer area could tell that Ginny wanted to be with Harry again, but the noble arsehole thought she blamed him for Fred's….

Anyway. The man must be blind. Well, actually he probably was legally blind what with those glasses of his. But anyway. Metaphorically? Whatever. Harry was an idiot.

Ginny wasn't a bad choice. Granted, she would take the mickey out of him if Hermione truly was just in the heat of the moment. Little sisters were prone to do that. So were older brothers, actually. Right, then. He couldn't go to anyone in his family to help him figure this out. They'd never let him live it down.

A creak near the door had him turning his head. Hermione stood, leaning against the door frame, staring at him.

He blushed and ran a hand through his hair to try and cover it. "Uh, alright, Hermione?"

She ignored him, instead saying, "I can tell you're thinking too much about this."

"Wh-what?"

She walked over to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

Ron mentally changed his mind- _this_ was easily the most brilliant moment in his life.

"Ron, I haven't forgotten, I don't regret it, and it wasn't in the heat of the moment. Well, actually it might have been, but I enjoyed it, and I'd like to do it with you more often, if I can."

Ron paused. "What?"

Hermione sighed. "I want to be with you. Alright?"

A smile lit Ron's face. "Blimey!"

_If love was a beam, you'd be blind in both eyes  
><em>_Put your sunglasses on, cause you're a deer in the headlights._

_You're the deer in the headlights.  
><em>_You're the deer in the headlights._

* * *

><p>The six Weasley children sat sprawled around the Burrow's living room, stumped.<p>

Bill spoke up. "Doesn't _anyone_ have a story on how they first got together with their spouses that _doesn't_ embarrass the Weasley name? That we can tell our grandchildren without shuddering?"

"Hey, mate that was _one time_, I've got _loads_ more stories…"

"Shut up, Charlie, you had your chance. And I doubt you'll ever have grandchildren, unless they're by accident. I'm talking to the married folk."

Ginny opened her mouth.

"You too, Ginny. Anything you might have had was trampled by the fact that you were very visibly crushing after Harry for four years." Ginny deflated.

Bill slouched in his seat. "Well, hell."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: This bit me in the butt and wouldn't let go. I usually hate song fics, but I just couldn't help myself. Must be that darned Weasley charm.<strong>

**Also- I like to think that Arthur and Molly, in their younger years, were a lot like Ron and Hermione… until Arthur wised up and realized the power of "Yes, dear." I'm sure Ron will get there eventually. **


End file.
